


A letter

by Sassy_Cage



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Drugs mention, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I honestly feel bad about writing this, I'LL FIX THIS IN CHAPTER 2 I PROMISE, Kinda, Letters, M/M, Michael's "death", Sadness, Self-Harm, Trevor kinda hates Mikey, angsty bullshit, fucking feelings letters bitch, i almost cried while writing this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 04:52:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4733393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sassy_Cage/pseuds/Sassy_Cage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trevor's not good at expressing his feelings,<br/>However,he can do it better on paper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A letter

**Author's Note:**

> Quick Tw for self-harm and drug mentions.

Michael was being held pretty tightly by Trevor who had his face buried into Michel's chest.

They fall asleep like that.

Michael wakes up to Trevor, holding him a bit more loosely and a letter on the bedside table. 

He opens it.

"Michael,  
I was gonna leave a few hours ago but I couldn't and I wouldn't. I should just tell you what's going on and we can just both move on with our lives.  
Michael, you're an asshole. A total asshole.  
But I keep coming back to you.  
And there's more of a reason behind that other than the fact that I care for you and that I may have more problems than you think.  
It's because I fucking love you.  
Everything about you.  
The way you speak, the way you laugh, the way you smell, the way you act,the way you look,the way you feel.  
You mean more to me than you could ever fucking guess.  
And that's why I keep coming back.  
Paired with those other things too, of course.  
I don't think you understand how hard it's been for me from the time you "died" all the way until we met again.  
You were gone,completely gone from my life and I was lost, I had no stability.  
I had nothing.  
So what could I have done but be scared, confused,  
pissed off,and most of all, sad, depressed.  
I would literally cry over you every night until I started doing drugs.  
Every. Fucking. Night.  
I would feel so inadequate. So fucking guilty and upset and there was nothing I could do about that.  
So that's why I started doing it, Michel.  
You asked why I did drugs and shit earlier.  
And that's why.  
And if you look real close on my arms, you'll see I was doing a lot more than that.  
The tattoo I got for you is covering a lot more than you think.  
There's a lot of scar tissue there. All those times I didn't have fucking drugs, I took things out on myself the other way.  
There's even some burn scars on my wrists.  
I had to get creative sometimes, when I didn't have anything sharp.  
And I can't even count the times I tried to kill myself.  
That would take as many years as you were gone.  
But I doubt you'll care about any of that.  
You probably don't even care about this letter either. It probably means nothing to you but me being me.  
And you know what?  
I don't even give a shit anymore.  
I don't even give a shit about anything anymore.  
I feel so fucking numb all the fucking time.  
But....when I'm with you I feel things and I....feel like someone again and I feel like I mean something.  
And I know I don't mean shit. I know that.  
But honestly, in the end, you are the love of my fucking life and the center of my fucking world.  
I wish you could understand that and I wish you would feel the same way.  
But wishes don't come true in this cruel fucking world and this cruel fucking game that we call life.  
And I'm just gonna have to deal with that.  
But at least I got it out of my system.  
Didn't make me feel any better though.  
And it didn't make me hurt any less.  
And it didn't mend what you broke.  
\- Trevor"

Michael hadn't noticed the tears running down his face until a tissue was handed to him.  
"Here."  
It was Trevor of course, handing him a tissue from his side of the bed.  
"Did I get too fucking emotional?"  
Michael turns.  
"I-I don't even know honestly."  
Trevor turns onto his side.  
"You wanted the truth so you got it. I'm gonna be leaving tomorrow morning anyways so you can throw it out or some shit."  
"I wouldn't do that."  
As Trevor is falling asleep, he mumbles back:  
"I don't know what to believe from you anymore."


End file.
